Filling the Void
by Megara79
Summary: They've finally managed to escape, but the depression that has threatened to suffocate Kathryn for the months they've been stranded won't let itself be shaken.


**Title: Filling the Void  
Author: Megara79  
Series: Star Trek: Voyager  
Rating: T  
Summary: They've managed to escape, but the depression that has threatened to suffocate Kathryn for the months they've been stranded won't let itself be shaken.  
Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Thanks to: Evil Shall Giggle, who's still made of awesome **

**Authors note: I wrote this as an add-on for the episode "Night". Part of the plot is inspired by the shower scene from the movie Casino Royale**

They'd been friends long enough for him to know that she wouldn't just bounce back from her depression like a gratified thank you for the stunt the senior staff had just pulled on her. Her hasty retreat from the bridge, not to her ready room but to her quarters, had proved him right, and he'd left an appropriate amount of time before he followed. He'd never seen her as unsettled as now.

He knew her decision to destroy the Caretaker's array all those years ago still weighed heavily on her. The guilt she felt overwhelmed her at times and seemed to crash down on her when she least expected, but somehow he'd always managed to bring her out of it.

Except for this time.

They'd been trapped in this endless part of space for two months when she'd told him her plan to get them out, and the eagerness in her voice had shaken him to the core. It was all very simple. She would take a shuttlecraft and use it to fuel _Voyager_'s escape, allowing her ship and crew to return to normal space while stranding her in the void. She had told it to him as if it meant nothing, as if losing her was just an unfortunate necessity. It was so absurd he'd first thought she was joking. It wasn't until she asked if he was ready to lead the crew that he understood what she was really saying.

She'd ordered him to let her commit suicide.

He'd been too shocked to respond, the relief in her voice scaring him the most. It was as if she'd finally found an acceptable retribution for stranding them in the Delta Quadrant. This was the price she would pay, and she embraced it gladly.

He'd done the only thing he could think of. He'd told the crew on her. When she'd stepped onto the bridge announcing her plan, they'd all respectfully but firmly, refused to follow orders. To his relief, she'd listened, and in the end they'd managed to escape without her deluded plans for atonement. Though she was grateful for their loyalty and had thanked them for their insubordination, she'd only stayed on the bridge for a minute before relinquishing command to him, and he knew that she'd left to fight off her remaining demons. For the first time, he wasn't sure he trusted her to do it on her own.

He'd chimed three times before her refusal to answer led him to override the access code to her quarters. The room was almost completely bathed in darkness, a faint ray of light coming from her bathroom, the only source of illumination. He could hear the shower running, and for a moment he contemplated just leaving her alone. Deciding against it, he ordered the lights on low and swept his eyes over the room. A shattered wine glass was on the table, its contents dripping down onto the carpet. Her uniform jacket lay discarded on the floor.

"Kathryn?" he asked, walking towards the bathroom. There was no reply. "Kathryn?" he tried again as he reached the door. Still no answer. He tentatively peered around the doorframe, looking inside.

She was sitting on the floor of her shower, fully clothed and dripping wet. Her arms were firmly clasped around her knees and she was shivering. Her head rested against the wall and her eyes never left his as he walked into the room. He was about to order the computer to turn the water off, but she stopped him before he could get that far, "Leave it."

"What are you doing?" he asked softly.

"Showering?" she tried, a weak attempt at a joke, and receiving a small smile from him for her efforts.

"You're wet," he offered, hoping she'd change her mind and let him turn the shower off. The water drummed furiously down on her and made Chakotay think of the rainstorms on Trebus. He took a step closer. "Let me turn it off."

"No. Just leave it."

Though her voice was quiet it made no room for discussion. Her eyes were still locked with his and he searched them for clues as to what she was thinking. It was never a good sign when he couldn't find any. He broke the contact, looking at his feet and contemplating his next move. He could leave her; let her sort out her demons by herself. Maybe that was what she wanted, or maybe that was just what was easiest for him? He shook his head slightly, cursing his lack of courage, and decided that he was not going to back out of this one. If his heart got bruised in the process, then so be it. These two months had been hard on him too. And he wanted, no, he _needed_ to be with her.

Looking back down at her, he offered another smile. It quickly faltered as his own demons came at him from every angle, and he moved to sit next to her before they managed to change his mind. She watched as he slid down next to her, unbuttoning his jacket, the water soaking through his uniform in a matter of seconds. The sudden coldness forced him to draw a couple of calming breaths as he waited for his body to adjust.

"No… wonder… you're shivering," he gasped. "The water… is freezing!"

"I just wanted to feel something. This was all I could think of."

He didn't know what to say and they sat in silence, both contemplating her words.

"Are you cold?" he finally asked. He knew it was an unnecessary question, but the silence was becoming stifling. She nodded, and almost seemed relieved to hear his voice again.

She leant her head against his shoulder as he ordered a change of temperature. A sharp sigh escaped her as the falling water became warmer, the heat momentarily scalding her skin. He wondered if this was what she'd been like when her father and fiancée had died. He found he wished he'd known her all those years ago, and he wondered what her sister had done to force her out of her depression then.

"I don't know how to get myself out of this," she said quietly. "What you all did for me today? I almost felt disappointed. I wanted to…" She didn't finish the sentence and he flinched at her meaning. "I have to get out of this. They need a captain, not… me."

"They love you, Kathryn. Don't let yourself believe any different." Kissing her temple he added, "We all love you."

She moved closer to him and he put his arm around her. He stroked her wet hair and she grabbed at his leg, holding onto the material of his pants.

"I love you too," she breathed into his chest.

He didn't know if she meant him personally or all of them.

"I just want to feel something," she repeated. It wasn't a plea, or a cry of desperation. It was merely a fact.

Before he could stop himself, he grabbed the hand closest to him. He looked at her fingers, his own caressing each before he brushed his lips over one. His tongue darted out licking at the finger, then at another, his mouth closing around the tips, sucking gently. She made no move to stop him.

"Is that better?" he asked as they slipped out of his mouth.

"Yes," she barely whispered in return.

Kissing the inside of her palm, he asked, "Can you feel this?"

"Yes."

He let go of her hand, tilting her head slightly.

"What about this?" His lips brushed against the corner of her eye, his tongue carefully licking away the water-drops. They tasted salty and he realised she was crying.

"Yes."

"And this?" Her breath warmed his lips before his mouth met hers.

She only nodded when he pulled away.

He looked at her for a beat, then moved to stand. Extending his hand, he helped her to her feet, and she didn't protest when he finally ordered the shower off. He removed his wet jacket, throwing it in the recycling bin. Grabbing a towel from the shelf, he put it to her cheek, dabbing it dry. He then brought the towel to her hair, squeezing the water out of it but careful not to tug at the strands too hard, remembering how his sister had cried whenever he pulled hers as a kid. Throwing the first towel in the same direction as the jacket, he grabbed two more. He gave her one, put his own on the rim of the sink, and started to undress. She looked at him, and for a fraction of a second he wondered if he'd gone too far. He hadn't. Putting her towel next to his, her hands went to the lining of her own sopping pants, tugging at her tee.

After a short minute he was dry and naked, the towel wrapped around his waist. He replicated himself a robe and watched as she put on her own, letting the towel, which had been wrapped around her, fall to the floor. She turned and met his eyes, waiting for his next move. Taking her hand in his, he led her to the bedroom. Flipping the covers, he gestured for her to get in. She did and he moved over to the opposite side, joining her. Shuffling close, he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her against his chest.

"Sleep," he said gently, stroking her hair again.

She placed a kiss on his cheek before resting her head in the crook of his neck. It didn't take long before her breathing slowed and her body became heavy. He, on the other hand, spent the entire night awake.

He slipped out of her quarters before she woke the next morning, knowing that she'd probably prefer it to an awkward talk about parameters they both knew had to be maintained. In the remaining months of their journey they never talked about what had happened that night, their relationship staying much the same. She made it out of her depression, returned to duty, and did her job like she always had.

But the episodes came more often after that, and it became harder and harder for him to pull her out of it. Partly because she pushed him away, partly because it became too hard for him to watch her crumble. It took another two years for them to get home. By then, he'd managed to ruin nearly everything by striking up a relationship with Seven of Nine. He broke it of with Seven a month after their return. It took another six before she came to his door telling him he'd saved her life that night in the shower. She knew it'd been difficult for him, standing by her after that night, and she told him she was sorry, not just for that but for ignoring his many attempts to contact her after his break-up. He told her he was the one who should apologise. That he'd been a coward. That he loved her and should have been there for her, and that he knew she had needed time. He invited her in. She smiled and accepted, in that moment realising that a weary admiral's time travels had not just been meant to ensure his happiness, but hers as well.


End file.
